


and i didn't hold tight enough

by CuddlyCookie1360



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Emotional pain, Feels, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I just wanted to rewrite this scene, Larry deserves better, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Rated teen for swearing, Sal tried so hard and got so far, Scene Rewrite, Spoilers, Suspense, i don't know how this site works, my only contribution to the fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddlyCookie1360/pseuds/CuddlyCookie1360
Summary: Ashley had said screaming would help him. He didn't feel any better.





	and i didn't hold tight enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on this site, so I don't even know if this is gonna work right.
> 
> Basically this is just a retelling of a scene in episode four.
> 
> There's probably typos, if you see any please point them out, I'm kinda bad at finding them.
> 
> My writing is kinda crappy and repetitive, so you have been warned.
> 
> Also what is pacing and how do I do it???

"Sure, let me know whenever you're ready to head over," Sal said, shifting his weight onto his left foot. He was feeling excited, knowing the trio was going ghost-hunting again, like old times. It'd be him, Larry and Todd; Sal had been wanting to explore the apartments he already knew by heart again since he'd checked up on everybody with Larry about half an hour ago.

"Will do," Todd replied, already turning around to go grab his new inventions. He'd said something about how he wanted to try something new with Sal's guitar; he knew whatever modifications Todd had made would be awesome. His phone buzzed in his back jean pocket, the sound rung out in the shed. Sally grimaced at the sudden loud noise, and turned his attention to his flip phone.

LARRY  
sal. im sry dude. pls dont blame urself

Sal blinked. _What?_ He'd just seen Larry thirty minutes ago, what possibly could've happened?

His stomach dropped at the message anyways. Whatever was happening wasn't good, and Sally felt concerned for his friend, especially from the seriousness of his message. He quickly typed out a reply.

SAL  
sry 4 wat? wat r u talking about?

Larry's reply was immediate, as if he'd been typing it while Sal was typing.

LARRY  
its time for me to go

Sal's heartbeat sped up; the vague message made Sal's mind go to all sorts of frantic, panicked theories as to everything that message could mean. Something fell to the ground and Todd let out a quiet curse, but it barely registered with Sal. He needed to stall for time.

They could fix this, whatever _this_ was.

SAL  
u better not be doing anything stupid

Maybe that was the wrong choice of words. Sal's fingers moved to correct his statement, possibly send reassurance, but Larry beat him to it.

LARRY  
its too late. ill be gone soon

_No_.

What did that mean? Larry gone? Sal couldn't imagine it; Larry was such a prominent presence in his life, he couldn't leave if he tried. 

SAL  
stop messing around larry, this isnt funny

_Please let this be a joke._

A couple seconds pass. Sal gets no reply.

SAL  
hey?

He hit the _dial_ button. Larry had to pick up. He had to.

SAL  
larry?

No reply. Larry wasn't replying. _Shit_.

Sal raised the phone to his ear; the walls of the shack seemed to shrink around him. He blinked in disbelief, what was going on?

The phone rang once.

" _Pick up_." Sal whispered.

A pause, then it rang again. Again. Again.

" _Pick up the phone, Larry_."

" _You better pick up_."

He didn't pick up.

Sal realized a second later that he'd moved. He threw the shack door open, heard it slam into the outside wall. He didn't care, the sound didn't resonate with him. He didn't bother to shut the door behind him, or pick up his phone when he dropped it into the grass without realizing, or answer Todd's call from inside the room. Sal's mind blanked, with one priority.

_Oh, god. Larry..._

Before he knew it, he was outside. The storm raged above him, and it was probably dangerous to leave indoors, but Sal didn't care. He couldn't care. The freezing wind and rain whipped at his clothes, slowing him down, as if they were trying to stop him. He pressed on.

He passed the _Nockfell Homes_ sign. He passed the _Phelps Ministry_ gates. He ran fast, his shoes squeaked on the sidewalk, puddle water splashed up onto his pant ankles. The cold seeped into his skin, his ears tingled, the rain pelted his prosthetic but he couldn't feel it, his bangs fell into his eyes but he didn't stop to brush them away because he _needed time._

It wasn't enough. He couldn't run _fast enough_ because the wind pushed him and the distance was too far and _oh, god, Larry!_

He burst through the front door of Addison Apartments, the place that had residents slightly too odd but Sal didn't care because they were his _family_ , and the place felt too lonely and quiet all the sudden. He didn't stop to wipe his wet sneakers on the welcome mat under the door. He didn't flinch at how loud his footsteps were in the echoing hall. He ran through the pounding silence to the elevator.

He tried to push the elevator button, but his finger was shaky and numb and just bent backwards. He let out a soft cry of desperation, and slammed his fist into the button. The metal doors opened for him, and he threw himself into the tiny space.

It took a couple tries to properly angle and slide the basement keycard into the slot but he managed. The doors couldn't close fast enough. The ride down a floor was too slow, far too slow, and _he should be in the basement by now--_

Sal bolted into the Johnson's apartment when he finally got there. He slowed only for a second to call out a croaky "Larry?" Sal's throat closed up, and he was surprised any piece of the word got out at all. He tried again, voice raising an octave. "Larry?!"

No reply. Lisa must've been with his dad, and _of course_ , Larry wasn't hearing him. Sal spun on his heel and ran into Larry's room.

The room was empty, both of Larry and his belongings. No paintings were on the wall or easel, his rock band posters were packed into boxes, Sal had helped him with that only a couple days ago. The lamps weren't on, and the room was painfully dark and silent.

"Where the hell are you?!" Sal shouted to the dark, to himself, not out of anger, but frustration. If he wasn't here, there was only one other place Sally could imagine him being.

He sprinted up the steps, and steadily climbed the ladder that led to behind the apartment complex. He nearly missed one of the rungs and sent himself into a heart attack. He dashed for the treehouse once he was outside again.

The cold pierced him yet again, the rain soaked through his already dripping wet clothes. His legs burned, but Sal wasn't stopping now. He was panicking so hard, he couldn't hear his own thoughts. The only part of his face that showed through his prosthetic was blinded by the fog, and he squinted to see even a few feet ahead of himself.

His pace was too slow, the distance from the apartments to the treehouse suddenly much farther, but he reached the ladder numb in his heart and body.

A note was sloppily taped to one of the ladder rungs, damp from the rain, but readable. Sal's breath hitched, and he grabbed the note with both his cold hands.

The world spun around him, he was going to be sick. He scanned over the note, sometimes blinking and reading the same sentence twice because he couldn't process it the first time. Ink splotches smeared over part of the words, so he guessed the letters. He couldn't believe this was real.      

_No_.

This wasn't real. This couldn't be happening. Sal could fix this, he could! He would!

His heart stopped at the last lines. Was he crying, or was it the rain?

That messy but neat signature was Larry's, without a doubt. This was undoubtably real. Sal couldn't deny it.

His throat was closed up, but he had to scream.

"NOO!"

Ashley had said screaming would help him. He didn't feel any better.

Larry was gone. He was really gone. Not temporarily, he wouldn't see him again after a few hours. He wouldn't see him again at all. He'd never get to move in with Sal, Todd, and Neil. He'd never get to go to the community college nearby and become a famous artist like he had dreamed of. He'd never sleepily answer Sal's call after he'd had a particularly bad nightmare like he had been recently. Sal couldn't imagine a world where he lived without Larry.

" _Do you like metal?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"Oh, that's gotta change._ "

Sal's numbness turned to overwhelming anger. He yelled again. "LARRY!"

He wanted to make his throat hurt from screaming at the top of his lungs. He wanted to yell, and stomp his feet, and have a fit like a little kid.

_"Yeah, but then once I told you I was fine... why did you cry?"_

_"Because you didn't look away."_

Sal's fists closed tighter around the edges of the note, crumpling the sides. He wanted to crush it into a ball, he wanted to curl into a ball himself, he wanted to tear the treehouse apart.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?!" He screamed at the wind. He knew exactly what Larry did. He'd left him, just like his mother had.

_I love you, Sally Face. Always._

The fog seemed to swirl around him specifically. He clenched his slightly too long blue hair in his fists and pulled hard, desperate for some sort of pain other than the burning of his frozen fingers, or his legs that were wobbling so hard he didn't know how he was still standing, or the pain in his heart because he knew this wasn't something he could fix because _he was too late._

Why couldn't things go back to how they were before? Everything was fine ten minutes ago. What had suddenly changed? What had suddenly made it so Sal couldn't think of anything other than the pain in his heart and mind, and how he was never going to do anything with Larry ever again?

"LARRY!" He screamed. His voice weakened significantly with the next word, but it was still yelled out. "WHY!"

He knew why. He'd gotten too cocky, too confident, and the universe had to put him back in his place. The demon couldn't let him get too strong, or too sure. It had to take away the thing he needed most, so that he'd feel more insignificant and hopeless. It was all his fault.

_This is all your fault._

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo that happened.
> 
> I'd like to write a full fledged, proper story for this fandom, but knowing me I'll lose interest halfway through and abandon it.
> 
> The title comes from the song 'I hate that you're happy' by Tiny Little Houses.


End file.
